Bonus Bree #3
“Not yet.” Stellan slows his thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in. Wes whines. “I want to feel you break first. I want to feel it through the bond.”
The feedback loop spikes so hard my knees buckle. Jace catches me, his free arm wrapping around my waist, holding me up while his other hand keeps working me. From the armchair, Rhett makes a low sound—watching all of it, watching me fall apart while watching them.
Stellan reaches around and wraps his hand around Wes’s cock—finally, finally—and strokes him in time with his thrusts. Once. Twice. Three times.
Wes screams.
He comes so hard his whole body convulses, clamping down on Stellan’s cock, shooting across the couch and the floor. The orgasm seems to last forever, his body jerking with aftershocks, Stellan fucking him through every wave.
“Yes,” Stellan groans. “Yes, give it to me, let me feel it—”
He buries himself deep and follows Wes over, coming with a sound that doesn’t match his elegant reputation at all—raw and broken and utterly human. Through the bond, I feel the echo of their shared climax, and I come again around Jace’s fingers—harder this time, sobbing through it.
“That’s two,” Jace murmurs, sounding wrecked himself. “Fuck, you’re beautiful when you come.”
The aftershocks ripple through all of us. Theo’s hand finds my shoulder, grounding. Even the room itself seems to pulse with residual energy.
Gray gathers Wes up when Stellan finally pulls out, arranging him on the couch with careful hands, murmuring praise into his hair. Stellan stays close, one hand resting on Wes’s ankle—maintaining contact, maintaining the connection.
Jace slides his fingers out of me slowly, and I whimper at the loss.
“Go,” he says, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “I know you want to check on him.”
“What about you?”
His grin is crooked, a little vulnerable underneath the bravado. “I’ll be fine. Plenty of night left.”
I start toward the couch, but I don’t make it three steps before a warm hand catches my wrist.
Rhett.
He’s finally moved from his armchair, and when he pulls me toward him, his skin is furnace-hot the way it gets when he’s been holding back. His hazel eyes are dark, intent, cataloging every tremor still running through my body.
“My turn,” he says. Not a question.
“Rhett—”
“I’ve been watching.” He backs me toward the wall, slow and deliberate. “Watching Theo take you apart with his mouth. Watching you come on Jace’s fingers while you tried to focus on Wes. Watching your face when Stellan finally broke.”
My back hits the wall. His hands bracket my hips, radiating heat that sinks into my bones.
“I know exactly what you need right now.” His mouth brushes my ear. “You need something steady. Something that burns slow instead of fast.”
He lifts me like I weigh nothing, and I wrap my legs around his waist on instinct. The head of his cock nudges my entrance—when did he get his pants off?—and I’m so wet from Jace, from watching, from everything, that he slides in with one smooth thrust.
I gasp. He’s thick, stretching me perfectly, and the heat of him inside me is almost too much. His fire magic pulses through the bond, warming me from the inside out.
“There,” he breathes against my throat. “That’s what you needed.”
He doesn’t fuck me fast. He fucks me deep—long, rolling thrusts that hit something profound every time, his hips grinding against my clit at the apex of each stroke. His hands are branding hot on my thighs, and everywhere he touches leaves trails of warmth that linger.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs. “Wrecked and still wanting more. Still taking everything we give you.”
“Rhett—” I’m already close again, oversensitive and overwhelmed. “I can’t—”
“You can.” He picks up the pace, just slightly, his cock dragging against my walls in a way that makes my toes curl. “One more for me. I’ve been waiting all night.”
His thumb finds my clit, pressing and circling in time with his thrusts, and the heat intensifies—his magic or just him, I can’t tell anymore. The warmth spreads through my belly, my chest, pooling low and building.
“That’s it.” His voice is rough now, strained. “Come on my cock, firefly. Let me feel it.”
The nickname breaks me.
I come with a sob, clenching around him so hard he groans, his hips stuttering. He follows me over with a low curse, spilling inside me in hot pulses that I swear I can feel warming me from the inside.
We stay there for a long moment, me pinned to the wall, him buried deep, both of us breathing hard.
“Okay?” he asks finally, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“More than.” I laugh weakly. “God, you weren’t kidding about filing things away.”
“I never kid about you.” He eases out slowly, lowering me to my feet with careful hands. His come drips down my thighs, hot like the rest of him. “Go check on Wes. I know you want to.”
I drift toward the couch, drawn by the sight of Wes looking so thoroughly undone. Gray has him cradled against his chest, but Wes’s eyes find mine when I approach—dark and hazy and still hungry despite everything.
“Hi,” he breathes.
“Hi yourself.” I settle on the edge of the couch, brush damp curls off his forehead. “You look wrecked.”
“Feel wrecked.” His mouth curves. “In the best way.”
Thane appears behind me. I feel him before I see him—that cool presence, the weight of centuries pressing against my spine. I turn to look at him and he’s looking at Wes with an expression I can’t quite read. Hunger. Recognition. Want.
“You fed well,” Thane says. Not a question.
“Stellan—” Wes starts.
“I know. I felt it through the loop.” Thane’s voice drops lower, intimate. “Every pulse. Every wave. Every time you crested. I felt your cock twitch. Felt your hole clench around him. Felt you break apart.”
Wes’s breath catches. So does mine.
Something shifts in the air between them.
I’ve watched them circle each other for four years.
Two Feeders, two kinds of hunger, and me in the middle pretending not to notice the tension.
They’ve shared me before—Thane drinking from my throat while Wes fucked me, Wes feeding on our connection while Thane made me come. But they’ve never touched each other.
Gray’s arms loosen around Wes, giving space. Stellan shifts back, giving room.
“What do you want?” Wes asks, and his voice has steadied now, something sharper underneath the haze.
Thane kneels beside the couch, silver eyes fixed on Wes like he’s the only thing in the room. “To stop wondering.”
My breath catches. God, his voice.
“Bree.” Wes’s eyes find mine. “Is this okay?”
“Are you kidding?” I manage. “I’ve imagined this probably a hundred times.”
Thane’s mouth twitches. “Only a hundred?”
“Shut up and kiss him.”
So he does.
It’s nothing like Thane’s kisses with me—controlled, deliberate, designed to take me apart.
This is two predators finally dropping their guards, and it’s savage.
Thane’s hand fists in Wes’s hair, yanking his head back, and Wes growls into his mouth—actually growls—and then they’re devouring each other.
Teeth and tongue and four years of denied want pouring out at once.
“Holy shit,” Jace breathes from somewhere behind me.
Gray shifts, giving them more room, and his eyes are dark with something that isn’t jealousy. Pride, I realize. He’s proud of Wes for taking this. For claiming something he wanted.
When they finally break apart, both of them are breathing hard. Thane’s composure is cracked—not shattered, but cracked—and Wes looks like he’s been struck by lightning.
“Four years,” Thane says roughly. “I should have done that four years ago.”
Wes laughs, weak and wondering. “Yeah. You should have.”
Thane’s hand cups Wes’s jaw with a tenderness that makes my chest ache. His thumb traces Wes’s lower lip, swollen from the kiss.
“This isn’t finished,” Thane says quietly. “You know that.”
“I know.”
They don’t kiss again. They don’t need to. Something has shifted between them—a door that was locked for years now standing open. Whatever comes next, whenever it comes, they both know it’s coming.
I’m so turned on I can barely breathe.
Seth crosses the room to collect me.
“Your turn,” he says, and there’s heat in his eyes but also patience. “If you want.”
“I want.”
He leads me to the wide chaise near the windows—big enough for three, which becomes relevant when Thane follows us over.
Not asking. Just present. Already done with Wes but not done for the night.
Seth doesn’t tense. Four years ago, he would have—would have seen Thane as competition, as threat, as someone trying to take what was his. Now he just shifts to make room.
“Both of you?” I ask, and my voice comes out breathier than I intended.
“If you want,” Thane says. His silver eyes are dark with hunger. “We’ve discussed it.”
“You’ve—wait, you talked about this?”
“Occasionally.” Seth’s mouth quirks. “When you’re not around.”
The image hits me—the two of them, heads bent together, talking about me, about this, planning how they’d take me apart together. Heat floods through me.
“Yes,” I manage. “Gods, yes.”
Seth pulls me into his lap, my back to his chest, and Thane kneels between my spread thighs. For a moment, no one moves.
Then Thane leans in—but not toward me.
He kisses Seth.
It’s not brief this time. It’s deep and filthy, tongue and teeth, and Seth groans into it while I watch from inches away. Thane’s hand comes up to grip Seth’s jaw, angling him deeper, and Seth’s cock twitches against my ass.
“Holy shit,” I whisper.
Thane pulls back, lips wet, eyes blazing. “You like that.”
It’s not a question. He can probably smell how much I liked it.
“Do it again.”
Thane’s smile is sharp. “Bossy.”
But he does it again—kisses Seth over my shoulder, deeper this time, dirtier. Seth’s hands tighten on my hips, pulling me back against him, and I can feel how hard he is through his pants, his cock straining against the fabric and pressing into the curve of my ass.